Imaginary FriendI once had a friend.
That was made of pretend,
Who's only friend was me.
We played all alone,
Just all on our own.
Down on the hills,
And the trees.
We ran through the woods,
Jumped in the hills,
And played in the dark,
Because we lived for the thrills.
We went on our journeys,
And time would stand still.
The world would change,
Because it bowed to our will.
Then came the days
My friend started to fade.
We no longer spoke,
We just sat in the shade.
And as we sat silent
We looked at the sky .
My friend left for the last time,
Without a goodbye.
I guess the fact is.
They were no longer shy.
I once had a friend,
I thought was made of pretend.
Who supposedly no one could see.
So I sit and I wait,
Pretending their late.
Alone with no guarantee.
Hoping and saying ,
Broken ButterfliesI opened my mouth and coughed out the wingsBroken Butterflies in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Throwing up the colors,
From once beautiful things.
They crawl up my throat,
And pry through my teeth,
Revealing the darkness,
I've hid underneath.
Her words echo in my head,
I try to stand.
But fall instead.
They no longer had that fluttery feel.
I guess the love had lost its appeal.
I cough and clutch at the hole in my chest.
Is this just love at its best?
She said she hates the world.
But I know she loves it so,
I have seen her on the hill,
With the evening afterglow.
She feeds them with my beating heart
Like the sweetest tart.
While clutching at the hole in her chest,
Causing them to swarm in unrest.
Their wings are black and broken
Like words unspoken,
They flutter by silently
She stands atop the hill secluded.
While I watch her from the gate.
Next to the forgotten roads,
In the evening when it's late.
Passed where yellow flowers grow,
With all our secrets kept in the glow.
MarionetteThe strings dig deep into her veins.Marionette in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
She moves with them,
To dull the pain.
A painted face,
With a printed smile,
Her emotions left unversitile.
She dances alone, secluded,
Forlorn and deluded.
And only for her twisted master.
A mental crafter,
A vile bastard.
but this is a show.
the people can see it
the people they know,
this is no secret.
their eyes glazed over
like shes no longer there
ignoring her existence,
she finds comfort in despair.
welcome to the show.
on stage, a girl
who you might as well know.
Only I can see the tears,
And only I know all her fears.
I flick my fingers to the right,
On my command she stands up right.
I flick my finger to the left.
She'd murder all the ones she left.
she dances with a smile.
that does not reach the eyes,
it looks so sick and vile
a soul that believes its lies.
Maybe its love,
i've heard it's supposed to ache.
Or maybe she's insane,
because even the strong can break.
I don't know the reasons,
Or why she's bound and cha
one step forward, two steps aheadSoftly, slowly.one step forward, two steps ahead in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The grains tumble on down.
Except for a whisper,
they don't dare make a sound.
Step by step
We move away from the past.
like steady drops of sand,
Being viewed from stained glass.
Softly and slow
Drop by drop
forced to step and never stop.
We slowly fade away
Like sand in a broken hour glass.
Always on different paths,
We may only brush by.
Never to touch,
Until the day we die.
Sky FallIt’s always when it’s raining...Sky Fall in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
She calls me on the phone.
Her voice worried and hysterical,
Compelling me to get home.
The sky is falling…
That everything’s coming down.
She can feel the whole world crying,
And she’s afraid she going to drown.
Hiding under an umbrella.
Isolated on her bed.
Maybe to keep the rain out,
Or the rumors that have spread.
Trying to ignore them,
Like the voices in her head.
She shuts her eyes to scream,
But silent raindrops fall
That one day,
The clouds might go away.
it leaves me stifled and choked,
When even on the sunny days,
it makes no sense,
that she's always soaked.
In the night.
She wakes to rain,
Hiding under an umbrella in fright.
Like the downfall causes her pain.
She tries to be brave,
Peeking up at the skies.
But she cant help herself,
So she just hides and cries.
and she says
I know i'm lost,
and I've almost lost it all.
Gutter GirlGutter girl washed her dress,Gutter Girl in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
In dirty water to look her best.
Combed her hair back with a comb,
Made from blue birds ribcage bone.
Bought a nice dress from a witch,
With human hair in every stich.
and also gave her glass kept shoes,
That shattered if were ever used.
Gutter girl went to the ball.
A party hosted at the mall.
Wanted to dance, to learn and sing.
Find what romance and love could bring.
But she was stopped
Right at the door
For she was too weird,
And too poor.
She was tossed out to the street,
Her shoes then shattered beneath her feet.
The dress began to fall apart
Each peace ripped raw, straight from her heart
The sky struck midnight.
And she went back,
Underneath and into black.
Gently shielded by the rain,
She goes back down into her drain.
Picks the glass out of her feet ,
Hangs her dress up in defeat.
Kindly thanked her grandma witch,
And bales the rain out of her ditch.
Gutter girl took the day.
To gently wash the pain away...
Paper Planes (mix)You called againPaper Planes (mix) in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Like I don't know what you want to do.
And I'm still folding these letters,
Pretending my words just might reach you.
So I let it ring
Hiding from the rain,
And the feelings it brings.
while hiding from the pain.
Reminded of when we spent the days,
Like they'd always last.
Now all we have are memories,
That belong to the past.
And I'm just sitting here
Still trapped under the rain.
Waiting for the chance,
To send these paper planes.
I look out the windows
Thinking about where the time goes,
How I let it slip away,
While I watched the clock tick,
It's way throughout the day.
And I've cursed this wasted time,
Ignoring all your calls
Wishing I could find the strength
To break these invisible walls.
And I wish that I could tell the truth,
And I wish that I could lie.
But I've been too afraid,
With no real reason why.
You call again
But I'm too afraid of what you're gonna say,
So I let it ring.
And I'm still here,
For the end
Where The Impossible Tries To BeTake me to a place, she said;Where The Impossible Tries To Be in Free Verse More Like This
my dreams no longer see.
My heart is breaking, my will is gone;
I'm not who I used to be.
Show me the place you can only see once;
a world for just you and me.
Take me there, to that place;
where the impossible tries to be.
Where the light and the dark share their love;
where the sun and the moon dance above.
A place where the grass and wind
become the sea;
and splash their waves all over me.
Clouds are colors that become the sky;
taste them as they pass on by.
A place where Angels go to cry;
and tears rain down from cold clear sky's.
I'll look up sadly through the rain;
and understand the worlds pain.
so please don't let me fall asleep;
and die for a world i cannot keep.
but don't dare wake me if i dream;
You'll rip our world at its seams.
she left for the place that transcends time;
she'll live forever and ever mine.
a place i will never get to see,
because this world won't let me be.
I can only imagine.
oh so bitterly,
about the place;
Where The Impossi
Hold The NoiseHer words.Hold The Noise in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
They grace pages,
From the tip of her tongue.
Just one more melody,
That goes unsung.
Yet pen strikes at paper,
Creating worlds and dreams.
Not knowing her own talent,
She takes them to extremes.
Unable to control her abilities,
She rhymes the world from reason.
Time holds its breath,
The stars fade out,
She pauses death.
And life stands still.
She writes it all,
While watching from a window sill.
In the worlds she made.
Away from the loud reverberations,
Of stress, life, and boys.
She finds she is finally able,
To Hold The Noise.
We Are The LiarsWe twist are words to talk to you,We Are The Liars in Free Verse More Like This
And bend the facts
to make them true.
We are the wolves, that lead the lambs.
Like gods of death
who guide the dammed.
The tricksters and jesters, who kings all loved;
Until we had them lynched and clubbed.
We are the ones, who break your rules.
While dancing on your laws like fools.
Your friends and family that will always last,
It is we who wear the mask.
We lie to make our world more,
While wearing masks that you adore.
We are the ones who set up the fires
And bury the living
in funeral pyres
we are the ashes
Crowned with thorns
And misplaced desires
We are the liars
Cheating Is Like Chocolate Cheating is like chocolate,Cheating Is Like Chocolate in Free Verse More Like This
or more devastating so.
Its taste so warm,
yet it's colder than snow.
If you hold it too long,
it will melt in your hands.
It will shake up the world,
so that no one can stand.
Cheating is like cherries,
in color and tone.
A bittersweet taste,
of a forever alone.
There is no reason,
to do as you should.
If something so small,
can taste so good.
Cheating is like a taste of forbidden fruit
Covered in chocolate,
deep down to the roots.
The first bite is sweet,
the second is hot
But as soon as its picked
it begins to rot.
When the chocolate melts
and the spice is gone
All that's left
is what's been done wrong.
Beware of the fruit
that smells of deceit.
Looks like a lie
and tastes bittersweet.
Because cheating is like a chocolate
That people cannot eat.
Sixty-Seven Lies and Thirteen TruthsSixty-Seven Lies and Thirteen Truths in Free Verse More Like This
To whom it may concern,
At some point, you and I
Each read these words.
This is something that
No distance, no time,
No death can take away.
You and I shared an experience.
I want you to look at the
Ground below. At some point,
Somebody else has walked
On that piece of ground.
Future generations have
The past for company.
I don't have that luxury.
My only truths are my name
And how I sign it.
DevotionDevotion in Free Verse More Like This
Don't tell me your name.
I won't tell you my name.
We are two normal people.
We are both nice.
Let's have this one night.
I know of a nice restaurant
Down the street.
We'll eat there and pretend
It's our anniversary.
This is not a date.
This is our one night together.
We will each have selfless devotion
To a complete stranger.
And forget each other
The next morning.
We can talk about the future.
We can talk about the past,
Which we don't have.
Give this one night to our fantasy.
Perhaps we'll get mugged.
You can cry on my shoulder.
We can ride the bus
Three feet from a bum.
The night will envelop us,
As we embrace on a bench somewhere.
We can walk for hours
And go nowhere at all.
I will drop you off by your door.
You will be so tired,
And you have to go to work
The next day.
I'll say goodnight, and promise
To call you tomorrow.
We both know that won't happen.
And we won't kiss like it's
An obligation. We'll kiss
Like we've always loved each other.
We won't be married.
We won't g
In The RainIn The Rain in Free Verse More Like This
Pressed within the pillow place
Faced with pleasant sunshine plain
Never stop to smell the roses
When you're running in the rain.
Empty, happy, singing sparse
Smell to drive you half insane,
Pleasant parks contain the farce.
There are voices in the rain.
Smile, smile, all the time,
Happiness becomes your pain,
Flowers growing in the grime,
Only flower in the rain.
Send me to the prison walls,
Let me look out toward the plain.
Should I die outside the halls,
I'll have smiled in the rain.
The Same ConversationThe Same Conversation in Free Verse More Like This
Do you have a problem with authority, Boy?
Does the world owe you something?
I suppose the only reason that
You're not attacking me right now
Is that you're a chicken.
How does that sit with you?
Do you have a problem with authority, Boy?
Did you want me to hand you
The world on a silver platter?
I suppose you think that I'm gonna
Be nice to you because you're a young man
And you're the future or something.
Look at me, Boy.
Don't glare at me!
You better change your attitude!
How do you expect to grow up
When you keep ending up here?
I dare you to look at me like that again.
Look at me, Boy.
Does the world owe you something?
You're not MY future.
I'm gonna change you,
Or I'm gonna break you in half.
How does that sit with you?
StatueStatue in Free Verse More Like This
In the brain and in the bust,
We see our stagnant pieces rust.
Looking up in pale blue sky,
Right to see and not deny,
Faces flying, flying by.
Children playing in the street,
Laugh and cry and then repeat.
If I warned them, if I dared,
If I was not strength impaired,
They would laugh like no one cared.
Sun above me, Earth below,
Spinning, spinning, round we go.
I get dizzy, I see light,
I can't tell what's wrong or right,
Hear the noises through the night.
Screaming every panicked breath,
Lens of horror, lens of death.
Beyond glass is stranger still,
Statue up upon the hill,
Strangers to their force of will.
Deja VuDeja Vu in Free Verse More Like This
You and I
When we feel wrong,
We tumble down
We sing a song.
Goes through our ears
And plays out loud
Like no one hears.
And plays back through
Like waves of
Subtle déjà vu.
And every time
We hear it play
We hear how things went
Wrong that day.
WatermelonWatermelon in Free Verse More Like This
Imagine this watermelon is your head.
Imagine this sledgehammer is self infliction.
See what happened?
Now this Pez dispenser is the rest of your life,
And each Pez is a year.
And each Pez I'm eating represents
The mistakes that weigh you down.
Imagine your empty life represents
A function of your general interest.
Imagine your friends are
Are the product of compromises
And putting yourself out there.
Imagine every face you've changed.
Now tell them that you've given up.
See that change?
Let's pretend that's torturing the ones you love.
That personal neglect,
The self deprecation,
Let's pretend that you don't want to try,
Because you're scared.
See my fist.
Feel me plant this in your face.
Let's pretend that's me
Telling you to pull yourself together.
Perhaps you should stop pretending.
FingerprintFingerprint in Free Verse More Like This
Know that they're looking for you.
I don't know what they're planning
To do once they have you,
But don't give them that chance.
We did not put you in your position.
Your parents did not raise you incorrectly.
The government is not unjust.
Your misgivings belonged to you.
Wherever you stored them is your place.
Wherever you are, criminals,
Don't stick your head out.
Leave no more fingerprints.
That's how you got into trouble
In the beginning.
Our company no longer has
Any business with you.
You are your only protection,
Use your arms to protect your face.
Use your face to protect your dignity.
This is the last correspondence
You will receive from us.
Indigo Moods Corp.
InventionInvention in Free Verse More Like This
Who did it first?
That's who's glorified.
Then somebody stumbles
upon the same thing.
Hasn't read the books.
Is their discovery
Any less genuine?
So I suppose it's all about
Being there first.
But if somebody
Makes a discovery,
And never tells anybody,
He will never be celebrated.
If I steal an idea
And advertise it better,
I can be championed
As the creator of something.
I suppose we don't
Care about who did it first.
If I advertise better,
I will have invented the world.
Happiness and How To Find ItHappiness and How To Find It in Free Verse More Like This
Today happiness has gone down 35 points,
While sadness is up 43 points,
Which is a record high for this year.
Today the president announced a bold new initiative
In order to generate happiness,
He's shipping in 100,000 puppies in from overseas.
Projections indicate that those puppies could
boost happiness by as much as 30%.
President: "America needs happiness. When you
Want happiness, you don't sit around and wait for it."
The national party of Life Fulfillment issued a statement
Today claiming that the president should be
Placing an emphasis on long term happiness,
And that this is only a temporary fix,
As those puppies will only be regular dogs in a year.
Andrew Socolovoyich, house min. leader: "America
Needs long term solutions. The president should
Be encouraging citizens to pick up a hobby. It's not as
Fun as puppies maybe, but people with hobbies
Usually live rich, happy lives."
And in local news: Have you ever wondered what
It would be like to live without happiness at all?
I Comfort MyselfWith a warm drink, whispering secrets to my own reflection.I Comfort Myself in Free Verse More Like This
The struggles that plague me, though none may know,
Are only for the ears of my quiet mirror, who smiles
Softly, warmly and with care. He tells me, I'm fine
I've done well for now and soon I may finally rest.
Though the silence continues to press upon me,
Weighing upon my soul like an iron crate.
Still I find comfort in whispering secrets,
If only to my own reflection - holding a warm drink...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 17th October 2012
Chenbeard the PirateChapter 1:Chenbeard the Pirate in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I remember waking up, with the distinct metallic taste of blood swilling about my teeth. I spat a red glob of the stuff onto the stone floor and tried very hard, through the pounding of my skull, to determine why I had been left in such a poor state of affairs. Most of my memories had been jumbled up, no doubt by the violence inflicted upon me prior to my arrival. My thoughts were a nonsensical sequence of colors and sounds--most of which made no sense. I could recall several important bits and pieces though: a voice, one that was calling out for me and a warm hand, reaching toward the distance. Was that hand mine? I wondered, as the memory faded away. How exactly had I come to arrive in this place, that alone was food for thought.
My internal rumination however was soon broken by the sound of a rusted metallic gate, screeching it's lungs out as it attempted to open the way. I could not see the whining mechanism, but I could tell that it was defin
The Human SolutionThe Human Solution:The Human Solution in Free Verse More Like This
Ladies and gentlewolves, I come before you today,
To speak on an issue that is close to our hearts.
For many centuries, we Wolves have struggled;
Continuing to seek a final solution to 'the Human Problem'.
Many of you might have heard of the horror stories,
Of these furless creatures lurking in the outer reaches.
Some cities have found them living in underground caverns;
Preying upon the young pups that stray too close to their nests.
It is sad, to say the least, but that sorrow ends today;
For it is my privilege and honour as Chairman of Lycanthropes United,
To unveil our newest means of combating this parasitic pandemic.
Three months ago our top scientist, Doctor Uriel Whitetail,
Discovered a particular genetic weakness in the Human cell structure,
When sprayed with this particular gas, 'Cynofium',
The human cells stop producing an important chemical;
Causing a quick death in mere moments...
As of today our soldiers are already prepared,
They will be
The Pirate SolsticeThe Pirate Solstice:The Pirate Solstice in Free Verse More Like This
There is tale around the Galbin Coast,
Of a black ship that appeared on the Winter Solstice.
It arrived at a town near Bismarch,
Struck heavily by famine and crop plagues.
The ship drifted silently upon the ocean currents,
Not a creak nor groan could be heard from its frame.
It docked at the port like an ominous reaper's vessel;
A metallic boarding ramp - much like a daemon's tongue -
Slithered slowly from its deck to meet with wooden jetty.
The crew descended, wearing black cloaks and black hats,
Fedoras, I believe they were called.
These figures made little noise as they moved,
walking slowly, silently and solemnly,
Carrying huge rucksacks upon their backs.
One by one, they dispersed throughout the town,
They went from house to house, distributing food,
Gifts and other things of the like.
For the first time in a long while,
The town was filled with laughter and joy.
Children actually giggled and smiled,
While adults breathed a sighs of relief and ea
Imagine DragonsThis story has been fully voice-acted. Scroll to the description for the audio.Imagine Dragons in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
...And here I am, walking up these large stone steps. Climbing up them, literally, as they were not made for humans to traverse. I would have been tired of ascending them each day, if not for the fact that I was no longer human. You see, I am what they call a Dragon Hunter. I happened to be one from the icy north and as such, this entire army of armour-clad Templars brought me along to exterminate the demon dragon that was said to plague these frost-bitten mountains.
The Icy Peaks of Teruel, or so they called them. Really they were just a collection of very large and harsh mountains, in which nothing dared to make its home. There was no wildlife here, no trees, not even the barest hint of a stone bug to be found. There was literally nothing here, except for a blind belief that a demonic drago
DeceptiveDeceptive in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Tempting with beautiful wings;
-Chen Yuan Wen, 4th January 2013
My Birthday Is Rather SpecialMy birthday is rather special time of year. In the day, there are good wishes, parties and a good time to be had by all. In the night however, events tend to take a rather morbid turn…My Birthday Is Rather Special in Short Stories More Like This
I prepared this year, as I always do: A chilled bottle of wine hidden out of sight and a pair of large candles; both of which would last the night.
I would then take a seat on the sparse wooden floor of my storage room and wait. Always I would end up waiting as the minutes ticked on by, for my companion was never early nor was she ever late. Indeed, she would only arrive precisely when she was meant to.
I peered into the shadows as time wore on by. The flickering light of the candles did little to aid my vision, filling it with the blissful pirouettes of the dancing shadows. I was always nervous during these times and indeed, I had reason to be. Most would have lived their lives without a spiritual encounter. Most should be glad to be a part of the boring world. For in a world without incid
WinterfallWinterfall:Winterfall in Free Verse More Like This
Warm blood drips upon the pearl white snow
freezing into droplets that shine and glow
Red like the colour of his once livid cheeks
It frames the sculpture I have carved on this peak
An artwork made so terrifyingly sublime
I believe that such a thing would be condemned as a crime
But woe betide the unfortunate soul
For the poor man stumbled into the freezing cold...
I remember his features in his moment of death
Hope and despair, intermingled as one
A shine of reality as he opens the door
and steps into the hell from the days of yore
From then he has passed into my loving care
His body as a shell and so I lay it bare
I paint it with colours, to frame the moment of death
and lay it with the others in the mountain's breast
Here in the silence, within the womb of the earth
You can view the masterpiece that I have birthed
A giant of corpses, sewn with flesh
Tattooed with the faces of eternal rest...
"Ah, indeed I am a genius..."
-Chen Yuan Wen, 23rd August 2012
The Misadventures of ChenbeardA humorous adventure filled with accents, jokes and every single reference we can possible get away with!The Misadventures of Chenbeard in Short Stories More Like This
Story One: He’s a Pirate After All…
…and so it came to pass that the once great pirate captain, Chenbeard the Mighty, found himself adrift upon the lonely currents of the ocean. Having been exiled from his crew, mostly from drinking too much of the rum and stealing underwear, the captain found his fate taking a rather sad turn. He had been knocked unconscious, bound and gagged, then tossed unceremoniously into one of the many dinghies that adorned the sides of the Sangue Padre.
Ordinarily, an exiled captain would find himself tossed into swirling currents of the sea. It was not uncommon for many of them to lose their lives in this fashion, but those within the crew that remained loyal to him, voted instead for a more humane end to his career.
Thus we begin the tale of Chenbeard the pirate, once a great man and now a mere hobo of the seve
An Oath to My FatherAn Oath to My Father in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
An Oath to My Father:
The chill of winter is nothing, when compared to the cold inside my heart.
A fire, once stoked by the warmth of family, has quietly died, five falls past.
I dream of my father, who watches from beyond the realms - and my ancestors
Who fought against an endless army of giants, to win the lands we have today.
Just as a devout man honours his God through worship, I honour them through my axe!
Each stroke of the whetstone, each screech of the metal, brings me closer to them -
Even as I draw closer to my doom. Oh how I can feel him, for the anger in my blood
Boils evermore as I sense him approaching my camp. He is hungry, he is eager;
Slacks of drool hang from his twin mouths, as a jarring roar shakes the mountain!
Though I shiver at the sight, it is not from fear - I shiver in anticipation
Of the battle that is to come. My steel may rend his flesh and break his bones;
Or perhaps I shall be sent to glory - but it is useless to think about such things,
NaPoWriMo- Day 5She used to try and catch butterfliesNaPoWriMo- Day 5 in Free Verse More Like This
until she realized their beauty
rubbed off on her fingers;
but she will always be loving you
with those digits.
20 years from now
when even the love on her arms
NaPoWriMo: Day 7Watch out.NaPoWriMo: Day 7 in Free Verse More Like This
She’s a devil,
Glad for her spine,
& her teeth,
even God hands fear her.
For she has arched her back
for a flower-woman
with sin dripping
from her fingers
-who taught her
how to laugh
like the stars.
NaPoWriMo: Day 6It’s hard enoughNaPoWriMo: Day 6 in Free Verse More Like This
to love her skin on good days,
to wide eyed strangers
as if to fill the emptiness
in her own gut;
she lives on a diet of sad stories &
you must shed your own skin
to save it.]
NaPoWriMo: Day 4I might have a scrappers knees,NaPoWriMo: Day 4 in Free Verse More Like This
wildflowers growing on my knuckles,
& I might remind you of every nasty thing
you ever did,
but I don’t see you in my mirror.
I just have the right
to hate my own face.
I think this hitchhiker’s heart
is breaking &
I don’t have the medical skill-
or the time
to suture the pieces
back together again.
NaPoWriMo: Day 8I was toldNaPoWriMo: Day 8 in Free Verse More Like This
to slice through the thickest
of scar tissue this evening.
Let all my inner demons
fall to the floor
& write them out
in my own black blood.
It’s not red anymore,
even though needles
& the bruises
laid out like war-lands
on my arms
I don’t think it ever was,
My mind is a mess
of free versed insecurities,
cat’s eye marbles,
& untamed forest fires-
I still don’t have the nerve
to slice open my skin
& bleed for her.
TigressShe is the kind of girl who smothers herself in astronomy,Tigress in Free Verse More Like This
New Age philosophies and coffee shop poetry.
All fire and dragon scaled-
She hides her tiger stripes behind bruises and ink stains,
living her life by way of verse-
throwing Hemingway around like insults.
Writing her letters to the moon,
she hides her heart underneath her own floorboards,
folding blank paper birds just to set them free at 3AM.
But, it's the lipstick stained collars,
the rose thorned fingers,
and the dead stars in her chest cavity
that tell her- even a tigress can bleed.
NaPoWriMo Day: 1I’ve got 30 daysNaPoWriMo Day: 1 in Free Verse More Like This
to defy Icarus:
teach this rose thorn heart
how to fly.
[ All I want to be
is the space between
But, I’m here,
ripping holes in blank pages
while nursing nebulae knuckles
with white plastered walls.
NaPoWriMo: Day 9More respectNaPoWriMo: Day 9 in Free Verse More Like This
for hungry lions,
doesn’t want to write this poem.
As she forgets how to use words
(on most days,)
relying on curses
like casting some witch's spell-
with only ten dollars to her name.
The oldest daughter:
she’s still somewhere in the middle,
because they had no other way
to categorize her.
Getting her first gravestone at three-
not to the gods,
but to the lily stargazers
in her palms.
she would become a bird,
& never come back.
She doesn’t want her death
laid out like a fast-food
how does she begin to explain
cultivating in her breastbone?
NaPoWriMo: Day 2sometimes,NaPoWriMo: Day 2 in Free Verse More Like This
i have this
sudden urge to cut
most of the time,
i just wish I were anything
other than me.
a rocket ship, a bird-
the sweet flavored smoke
I promised my girlfriend
these briar patch lungs
would not in.hale.
i have fallen in love
with the strangest of things-
eyes that intimidate
the way my scars
play hide and seek
with her hands. -
the love letters
that start and end
pressed against limbs.
i make promises
i know i can not keep.
but if i were a liar
i would say i was tired
of writing to the stars.
NaPoWriMo: Day 10 Have you ever been so cold, Sweetheart,NaPoWriMo: Day 10 in Free Verse More Like This
your knees q u a k e d like that Jenga piece
that buckled just before your whole foundation
& no matter
how many times
I've restarted your heart,
one would think
I'd grow tired,
I'm still writing you in poetry
(in the most inappropriate of places.)
You forced yourself beneath my blades
& my fingertips,
Licking unstable knees,
you were death on my tongue:
angry apricot eyes, unforgivable sin
scaring my limbs &
haunting my dreams.
& I'd still try to save your fucking life.
The door of hellthe door is openedThe door of hell in Free Verse More Like This
I see the claws of the monster
he approaches the bed
his red eyes shine in the dark
this was not a legend
this story for frighten children was real
the monster is before me
I cry, I afraid
he catches my legs
I slip under the bed
the door of darkness opens slowly
I am afraid of myselfthe loneliness is a bleeding woundI am afraid of myself in Free Verse More Like This
mutilated my body
tortured my mind
with dark ideas has become a habit
I am afraid of myself
I do not like reality
I hide in my nightmares
order to escape from life
The hand on my katanathe hand on my katanaThe hand on my katana in Free Verse More Like This
the sad look
the heart ripped
I have to take thy life
thou hast betrayed the clan
the punishment for thy foul is death
we were friends
Now thy head rolls on the floor
The voice from beyond the gravethy voice is sad and melancholicThe voice from beyond the grave in Free Verse More Like This
she resounds in my head
a year already, that you're dead
a year that I'm alone
I have an strange feeling
I believe I see thy face in the mirror
i sense a presence near me
I'm crazy to hope or naive to believe
that I can communicate with thee
Eternal sufferingshe looks at each tombEternal suffering in Free Verse More Like This
she seeks the name of his first love
this man was nice and tender
he was aware of her past
he had never judged her crimes
kneeling before his grave, her hands immersed in this cursed land
she cries her sadness and her distress
I loved you, my angel
excuses me, I had not the choice
the abandonment was the only solution
The lost innocenceMy innocence is lostThe lost innocence in Free Verse More Like This
one night, I lost this treasure
I thought to be ready
I thought being loved
but for him, I was a bitch
for him, I was a toy
the love had disappeared
I regret this night
I regret my impatience
Today I am a princess without crown
a teenager at heart injured
which seeks forgot this day
True loveThe time has erased our youthTrue love in Free Verse More Like This
our two bodies are worn out
Yet the desire has not changed
The age is not important
the love and sex are immortal
when two people love each other for real
A sweet lullabyher life is a long insomniaA sweet lullaby in Free Verse More Like This
a hard road in the darkness
or she seeks the sleep
she is used every night for the children
but nobody has thought
that she had also the right to close your eyes
The hell of a loveshe seeks a loopholeThe hell of a love in Free Verse More Like This
to leave this man
that she does not love
this love was an illusion
a waking nightmare
which has destroyed her life
each day it was hell
make love was a Calvary
condemned to silence
she dreams of freedom
but leaving the hell is not an easy thing
lost in white desertthis evening, it's snowing like last yearlost in white desert in Free Verse More Like This
the first snowflakes fall on the road
I walk in the cold
my body and my hands are frozen
I walk in order to forget this life
I walk to clear my head
I am alone
I light up a cigarette
the first puffs are pleasant
a little cloud escapes from my mouth
an lost unknown in the white desert
a tortured soul who seeks serenity
All They See Is ScarsI want to tell a story,All They See Is Scars in Free Verse More Like This
but this story isn't a fairy tale
and it wont have a happy ending,
because the real ones, well
they never really do.
In high school
I picked up my pen
and I began to write
It existed and it was pure
and it was lovely.
But my rapist rewrote me.
breathing on my neck
and tracing my back with his fingers.
He rewrote me as broken.
He wrote me as a statistic,
as another white girl who got told
that she cried rape for attention.
But that didn't matter because see,
I wanted to tell a story.
A story about family,
about picking each other up
about blood being thicker than water
about how not everyone's home
had to be broken.
But my father rewrote me.
When i picked up my pen
he spoke words to me
that I swear bruised my whole body
and I learned that nothing
was thicker than his alcohol
and my home was already shattered.
But I wanted to tell a story.
so I picked up my pen
to write about god.
A God that could save anybody
And God loved everybody,
which was the onl
Your life is not a British television showPeople on social media sitesYour life is not a British television show in Free Verse More Like This
tend to glorify things that hurt.
They brag about things
that people struggle with.
Mental illness is not a label.
It is not a badge nor a privilege
or something you have to earn.
they battle voices in their heads
that they do not even recognize.
People struggle to tame
their inner demons
and keep up an image
that the world expects them to uphold.
Mental illness is not cute,
being so anxious you cannot speak is not a quirk.
Relying on people to take care of you is not romantic.
Your life is not an episode of Skins
The idea of Effy and Freddie is fictional,
no one is going to save you.
We go home and muffle our cries
while dragging razors across our wrists
chasing pills with bottles of vodka.
Our thoughts turn on us
Like a loaded gun,
and we are stuck forever
in a game of Russian roulette.
We wear long sleeves,
and try to drown out voices with headphones.
We tremble at the thought of giving up the chemicals
we have become dependent
BeautyBeauty rose out of that silent sea,Beauty in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Her eyes were tepid with wild thunder,
And then she turned and looked at me.
Me; a meagre man who knew no lady fair,
Nor one of care as she snaps my heart asunder.
Beauty flew up to that sinister sky,
Her lips were dark with mad desire,
And then she turned and started to cry.
Cry; a crude curse who knew no mortal smile,
Nor one so vile as she scars my aura in fire.
Beauty stood up on that scarlet skin,
Her locks were rouge with quiet rain,
And then she turned and walked on sin.
Sin; a sordid spirit who knew no lover true,
Nor one in clue as she saves me from my pain.
Hell's AngelAll I need is an angel from hell,Hell's Angel in Free Verse More Like This
She's the only beauty who can control my desire,
When she breaks the ice and kisses me with fire.
I've been asleep for so long when I return to life,
The cherubim of heaven will hear my soul yell.
All I need is an angel from hell,
She'll be my fair lady who will purge my regret,
When she calms the thunder with tears she wept.
I've been lost for all time but now I have no strife,
The seraphim of heaven will ring out an immortal bell.
All I need is an angel from hell,
She can do no wrong when all I see is her honesty,
When she slays the wind in those skies of piety.
I've been alone for an eternity now she's my wife,
The children of heaven will curse us: We of minds so fell.
Voices Of The ClockI look up and the clock chimes twelve,Voices Of The Clock in Free Verse More Like This
And I witness silent whistles working the night,
Under the flaming furies of crimson candlelight.
Into a grave of loneliness with despair I do delve,
To find happiness beyond my own shrouded sight.
I look up and the clock chimes eleven,
And I hear quiet sprockets slaving the morning,
Under the twitching tears of yellow yawning.
Down in a hell of woe I so long to give in,
But I seek joy before I start my misery mourning.
I look up and the clock chimes ten,
And I see vague gears governing the day,
Under the burning blades of cyan clay.
Yet here in this pit of hunger I'm about to begin,
On a blissful path that led me on it's wondrous way.
Tick tock cries the cogs and gears of the clock,
Managing it's tireless triumph of time,
Over those realities of ravenous rhyme.
Eroding away the most rhythmic of rock,
As I run upon satin sands of lovelorn luck.
I look up and the clock chimes nine,
In a world without worry or fear of feeling fine,
Perceiving it's a
HarbingerFrom beyond a space where time is still,Harbinger in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Rises a monster who wields a murderous will.
Crimson cuts of corruption line it's carapace,
Yielding imperial eyes on a merciless face,
Engines erupt to herald the harbinger's haste.
From beyond a silence where life is dead,
Moves a deity who haunts a ponderous head.
Purple parts of penetration mark it's form,
Daunting funereal cries by a tactless storm,
Circuits corrode to hail the harbinger's harm.
From beyond a sorrow where joy is lost,
Roams a terror who obeys a wonderous ghost.
Black bolts of beatification hold it's sword,
Slaying mercurial lies to a reckless word,
Diodes deduce to hark the harbinger's horde.
The Poem Without A TitleI fear writing these lines lost in love,The Poem Without A Title in Free Verse More Like This
Have become a force of unbridled habit.
If I think of a word echoing wisdom or worth,
Like a child trapped in a dream of delight,
I reach out with a humane hand and then I grab it.
I fear speaking these rhymes risk my rage,
Will become a power of unfurled wonder.
If I think of a label silencing lethargy or loathing,
Like a man caged in a nightmare of night,
I look up with a elusive eye to see a simple star.
I fear reading these symbols stop my soul,
Shall become a vehicle of undaunted hesitation.
If I think of a theme waking trust or toil,
Like an elder imprisoned in a sanctum of sight,
I walk forth with a gullible gait to freed concentration.
Charade (or Dysfunctional Love)Something old, something new,Charade (or Dysfunctional Love) in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Just give me one perfect devious answer,
Or do I have to weed out of you a clue?
You say you adore me, but it feels like cancer,
To perform this childish charade every disaster.
Close shut the door and wave goodbye,
Look through echoes of grimy glass in regret,
To see a forlorn face but you don't know why?
Where times spent in trust you can never forget,
From chords of a pitiful piano that sing then cry.
Something borrowed, something blue,
Just give me one good honest reason,
Why I should give a damn about you?
You say you love me, but it feels like treason,
To play this churlish charade every season.
Open wide the curtains and say farewell,
Breathe through sighs of arid air in despair,
To see a sullen survivor but you sent him to hell.
Where memories lost in merit you say aren't fair,
From vocals of a guilty guitar that whisper then yell.
You take away my heart of sanity,
To pour in your seeds of vanity,
Now all I have left is my mind of insanity.
The Blind WitnessGouging out the innocence from my eyes,The Blind Witness in Free Verse More Like This
Bleeding red under the blackest sweet skies.
When all I witness before me is dour death,
Under bleak air that freezes all but frigid breath,
Where nothing screams but their silent lost cries.
Plucking out the oppulence from my mind,
Burning amber along the whitest loneliest line.
When all I witness before me is stale suicide,
Beside meek water that pleases all but morbid homicide,
Where nothing sleeps but their violet empty wine.
Sucking out the exuberance from my visage,
Boiling green above the gravest murder machine.
When all I witness before me is twisted terrorisation,
Opposite weak sand that eases all but placid fascination,
Where nothing stares but their violent chaotic wolverine.
The Writer's One Second SparkSense no darkness when I am wide awake and on fire,The Writer's One Second Spark in Free Verse More Like This
I could do this for another second, another minute, another hour.
Oh what creativity in this cortex that blossoms like the simple flower,
How these intricate rhymes of innocent words give my heart,
Such a pounding energy of pride to recycle my writer's power.
Sense no blindness when I am wide awake and full of desire,
I could do this for another day, another week, another year.
Oh what brilliance in this brain that emotes like the complex tear,
How those delicate rhythms of distant beats give my soul,
Such a resounding spark of arrogance to rekindle my writer's fear.
Riotous ApocalypseWait can't you hear that minute sound,Riotous Apocalypse in Free Verse More Like This
Gushing up from the depths of a dank underground,
Would you silence the screams of the damned?
Merciless marauders crawling over cement ceilings,
Blackened blades wielded by faces lacking feelings.
Wait can't you see their vacant frown,
Rising up from the lows of a lonely town,
Would you break the bellows of the cursed?
Senseless soldiers marching over marble mountains,
Hardened hatchets shielded by roars quaking rains.
Wait can't you smell their lost pity,
Building up from the hell of a hatred city,
Would you torment the tears of the harmed?
Guiltless gladiators storming over stone streams,
Sharpened swords yielded by dark bleeding dreams.
A Letter to No OneThe clock ticked against silence,A Letter to No One in Free Verse More Like This
Upon the cemetery of a room.
Deep sighs weave through the air,
Meager warmth in compressed despair.
Moths fall prey to a musty lampshade,
An opened window to Night’s gloom.
Thoughts dance like ripples on water,
And clouds on the hiding moon.
A lullaby plays from the gentle sound,
Made by scratching pen on paper.
One story told too many times,
Is voiced from words created.
Though this time revived from lies,
A phoenix forms the ugly truth.
The pen rolls from the wooden desk,
Having served its final use.
Old dusty dolls and teddy bears,
Watched helplessly through glassy eyes.
No star showed to twinkle hope,
Not one ray from the busy moon.
On the clock’s tick, a rope was hanging.
On the clock’s tock, a form was thrashing.
A tired, hoarse throat gasps for life,
Cut abruptly by the Reaper’s scythe.
Poems on the shelf with an unknown author.
Paintings on the wall left unsigned.
Just another heart trapped in horror,
An unfinished l
If Only We Aged Like TreesTell me how many clinksIf Only We Aged Like Trees in Free Verse More Like This
when you smile
with a grave’s peace borrowed.
The creaks of a swing,
and the shards of broken china,
sing your childhood riddles
on nights the storm would knock.
Stars belong to clouds,
just as fate is in love with time.
A box full of buttons
and a handful of sand,
count how long you kept your fingers crossed
from behind the pleats of your summer skirt
as we watched our thoughts set
with an imaginary sun.
To Fly in FireSinking deeper in a sea of nothing,To Fly in Fire in Free Verse More Like This
With night’s darkness as my dawn.
Questions requiring no answers,
And satisfaction found in the wrong.
Tears shed not like the inkwell,
Far overused by this rotting quill.
Is this the seed of strength and vigor,
Or closing distance with my rancor?
I hear the still damp match ignited,
Rekindling my flame of envy.
The drowned piece of wood below,
Was kept remembered after all.
So the wind I soared these wings with,
Were nothing but mere, fake glimpses.
What unkindly surrenders to the glutton,
That keeps me earth-bound along with it.
Flashes of fears of weakly faltering,
Dread my dreams with eyes unclosed.
But this tattered soul knows too well,
The day’s yet to exist when I can let go.
Wishes in the WellI laugh at the unforgiving irony,Wishes in the Well in Free Verse More Like This
A drop of water to desert's core.
Cunning taunts and hisses mock me,
Another child of Murder is born.
No creature would be left unfazed,
To the scent of rose and gentle touch.
Blind to the face that honey glazed,
A piece of meat to the hunter's lunch.
Piercing gazes thrown my way,
Welcoming that all too familiar doubt.
So soon Fate has come to play,
Enjoyed by twisting my mind about.
I drown in sand like a fool,
Visioning what's to be so vividly.
Without shame, please don't be cruel,
See I'm not built an oak but a lily.
Like a pen's ink was meant to flow,
I kiss the metal of this coin so cold.
As the rain from clouds choose to go,
May this return a hundred-fold.
Not yet done from sewing the pieces,
Chopped roughly by a smile so sweet.
You're the seraphim with deadly gazes,
Please be the one to make this heart beat.
Hidden HuesRefusing to escape this perfect realm,Hidden Hues in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Oblivious to the alarm’s nagging.
Closing my eyes to falsely pretend,
This world goes on without the raging.
And yet too soon I wake to darkness,
All the sun’s light is a mirror’s illusion.
Nightmares clear the dreams I prolong,
Setting my fears into fruition.
Draped in robes of heaven’s disguise,
Evil taunts us from left and right.
So many forms it blatantly sports,
Angels must pity our little plight.
Fractions of time is hell unleashed,
Sorrow absorbed in just one blink.
Blades and ropes and bullets blend,
Each passing day a child will sink.
Colors dull to the undying clockwork,
Ears gone deaf to justified crime.
Oh just how can we all stand it?
Watching demons at their prime.
Placing pearls on the ocean floor,
And leaving hope in Pandora’s box.
The gods must feast on playing jokes,
Closing this cellar without the locks.
But just as air seeps in the tiniest hole,
Paired with night is dawn’s bright light.
CharadeHow much longer must it go on?Charade in Free Verse More Like This
This reality of make-believe,
Feels like a scene from a stage-play,
Where failure is long achieved.
What story is planned out now?
What plot is to be carried out?
Amusing how you're not tired,
Spewing out the same old lines.
Do you think we have an audience?
To render warm applause?
The seats are cold and empty,
Overlapping dust of folly.
We're but puppets to a string.
Made to move with no accord.
I see there is no puppeteer,
But this fantasy you dwell on.
How long will you remain asleep?
To the laughter of the sinister?
Or are you relieved somehow,
Of the meager joy you render?
Is the climax done I wonder?
Will the curtains ever be drawn?
Is this even tragedy or comedy?
Or just some tune to a sadist's song?
By all means rush to the finale,
Be one with the pointless jabberwocky.
Sing your threats with one voice less,
I knew I wasn't cut out for this.
Jewels in the DustFlowers bloom against the harsh rain and penetrating heat of the sun. Birds chirp to welcome the day born from the cold of the night. The endless force of water flows despite its ravaged passageways. Another day, another light. Another chance for our wings to take flight. And though perhaps this has been talked about far too many times, such a topic is one that does not wear with each chance it is uttered. Instead, like the stubborn blades of grass fighting through narrow cracks of cement, it only stands much taller and becomes much brighter as its never-ending tale of hope and love changes a life one after the other.Jewels in the Dust in Philosophical More Like This
The alarm clock shrieks winning the battle against silence. Our eyes open to the setting of routine. The mind goes through a mental checklist of what must be done, while fighting to let go of the realm of dreams. Everything the usual, nothing out of sorts. And as we leave the guard of our homes, we know full well we make ourselves vulnerable to the fear we hold against re
Reaper in the ShadowsI am the dust in the gathering light,Reaper in the Shadows in Free Verse More Like This
Heard in the drop of morning rain,
Looming within the rose bud,
A speck in night's velvet wake.
I whisper louder than Zephyr,
Sing with a voice that's croaked,
You hear me beneath the screams,
Of fears Silence cloaked.
As warm as Love's confusion,
As cold as the other's heart.
The shady, cunning warrior,
Who tears the world apart.
You'll find me drowned in water,
Buried deep in desert sand.
Unseen like the wisp of vapor,
That came from no man's land.
Freed to be caged forever,
In an endless labyrinthian maze.
Where each dead end is my escape,
And waxed wings are set ablaze.
Sparrows and Train TracksSparrows and Train Tracks in Free Verse More Like This
She listens to the corpse of a wingbeat.
The stories of faraway people
etched on sea glass and flower petals,
like legends told for lullabies
printed with rose thorns
in the absence of paper.
Do the fingers of clock hands
hold the questions of children,
the way wine kisses guilt
and disposable wedding rings?
Handmade letters and gift-wrapped packages
resemble the music of a laughter
that isn't really there.
How many faces
are the reflections of a moment
dying in the second of a memory-
or the dances in the i love you's
that you never told me.
Square the CircleShall this poem be worth your time,Square the Circle in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Know this now, I’m not in my prime.
Etching thoughts in streams of air,
Breathing in the cause of despair.
One line written and then erased,
The product is surely to be left unpraised.
Words crossed out again and again,
Heard this pen scream, “When will this begin!”
As soft as silk and as rapid as water,
Yet its flow is like earth, maybe harder.
Wonder if birds also tire to sing,
Lose their voices to taunts beguiling?
Chaos stands with well-earned respect,
Minds ravaged to deal in retrospect.
Madness turned to Turmoil’s good friend,
Heaving insanity to uncoil and unbend.
From a hollow void this poem was formed,
With intricacy and detail it was not adorned.
Yet for every piece the soul is torn,
A greater poet, artist, is born.
Paper streets and paper goldHe had paper hearts strung around his ankles and paper cranes on the soles of his feets. He had paper people as bandages to wrap around his ribs where a lost entity lived inside. He had paper for skin, paper for lips, and paper for hair. All frayed.Paper streets and paper gold in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He spent his days in a flimsy house coming apart at the seams, staring at empty sceneries out of shaky windows, scribbling white drawings on white floors on top of each other, singing blank words from a blank box of a voice. He imagined a life with color and foundation, solidity that couldn’t be crumpled, a world with compassion from the corners of a friendly home. He drew pictures of that world he daydreamed of, and sang sad songs of how he would never get there. For such a place did not exist.
He was the boy who lived on Paper Street.
He wished he wasn’t.
Space DementiaThe total darkness blinks in a shower of sparks from the failing electrical lines and boxes on top of suspicious wooden poles. Suspicious indeed, because one of them falls over and a battle begins.Space Dementia in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She is as shaky as the caricature of the shanty town this takes place in, shaky as long-term decisions, and the metal sheets her back is pressed against. Sometimes things catch moonlight and fire, and they glint off the metal. That’s where she sees blood fountain out of throats, bulky human forms falling into dirty water and others stepping over them. (These things can’t last very long.)
Something explodes a couple feet beside her - a foot and eight inches, she roughly calculates, she flinches. One ear doesn’t seem to work anymore and a ringing headache settles into the action. She’s not going anywhere (but maybe she’s rethinking).
A funny turn of events mocks her situation and gives her a gun, somewhere in the shadows, and all she has to do is grab it and shoo
91. Drowning (100 Themes Challenge)She can’t see through the oil in the water, forming like black golden spiders. Everything’s gone octopus-black, and it isn’t going away.91. Drowning (100 Themes Challenge) in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She screams and pounds against the plexiglas. Water and ink burn her throat. On the dry side of the glass, scientists and their students take careful note. So this is what a human looks like in utter desperation, the bald man in a lab coat explains. She knows what they’re doing, she knows what they’re saying about her, she knows she’s going to lose consciousness and sink to the bottom, and it’s all life’s fault, it’s done this to her, and she had no say in the matter.
But you were in the right place at the right time, weren’t you? If you weren’t exactly the way you were, they wouldn’t have chosen you. It is your fault, even though you couldn’t have known to prevent it.
Guilt sets fire to her eyes, whites running black; her lungs are filling up, it’s going to reach red
A Mother's LoveNew shirt. New skin.A Mother's Love in Free Verse More Like This
You’ve gotten promoted, haven’t you too
Smiles in pictures now, tilted incisors and all
Got yourself a car
A new man, new friends
But you never let me go up the stairs,
Hide me behind family glasses of wine
And pretend my reflection does not exist
Have I outgrown my use,
Are you grown -
Missing Pieces.I am a missing piece. Something that someone needs.Missing Pieces. in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
But at the same time, I feel so incomplete.
I’ve wandered way too far, wondered for far too long
Am I a missing piece? Or a piece that won’t belong?
Is it possible I’m damaged and not missing at all?
That I’m just as dysfunctional as everybody else?
Pretending to be perfect never softened a single fall.
But neither did admitting that you’re broken and flawed.
A broken missing piece. Is that all I’m meant to be?
There is no master plan that includes the likes of me.
Being all alone, it’s a hurt that will not cease.
A hundred thousand years from now
I’ll still be
Good Guy.You say that what you want is something you will never findGood Guy. in Free Verse More Like This
You lay your head on my shoulder and I don’t mind
I breathe in deep and love your scent
And you ask if I knew what you meant
I shake my head and then you sigh
“I just want a good guy.”
Has it ever occurred to you, maybe
Your head is on his shoulder, baby
I don’t want to be your best friend
When I’m with you I feel my heart beat again
Has it ever occurred to you that I
Could be your good guy?
Here you come again with tears in your eyes
‘Cause of something he said, it’s no surprise
You fall into my arms and I let you cry
“Where the hell are all the good guys?”
Has it ever occurred to you, maybe
You’re crying in his arms, baby
I want to be more than your best friend
When I’m with you I have a purpose again
Has it ever occurred to you that I
Could be your good guy?
Love Me.She falls asleep most every nightLove Me. in Free Verse More Like This
To the sound of her parents pointless fight
And clinging tightly to her tear soaked pillow
She goes to school most every day
Wishing she could run away
From all those who torture her
For not being ‘cool’
Her mother, she just plain ignores her
Her father’s never even there
Who would notice if she were gone?
Who would even care?
She just wants to make it quick
To take this razor as her friend
And feel its tender loving kiss
Pressed against her paper skin
She just wants to make it stop
The feeling lonely, sad and hated
She holds the blade up to eye level
I don’t know how long she waited
She presses hard against her skin
And lines of ink bleed from the pen
The blade, it rests there on her knee
On her arm she wrote
HauntedI hear this haunted voice; it whispers liesHaunted in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
It keeps me up at night; it plays my fears
Allowing no sleep for these tired eyes
Telling me things that I don't want to hear
Am I really heartless or am I numb?
Is this simply darkness of am I blind?
Try to claw my way back into the sun
Leave a bloody trail for others to find
Following the sound of a lonely heart
Brought only false hope that I might be freed
I was led astray in the howling dark
The one way out is through the blood I bleed
I've given up hope of living in peace
I only wish now that my heart would cease
The Truth (And The Lie)I'm br(OK)en, really.The Truth (And The Lie) in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Diamond In The Rough.Long hair and deep brown eyes so sad but full of hopeDiamond In The Rough. in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Walks over to his side and hands him a love note
Then he points and laughs at her for the feelings she confessed
She feels emptiness as a heartbeat in her chest
At home she’ll water down her pain with broken pride
Trying to fix the girl who fell apart inside
Long hair and deep brown eyes so sad and full of tears
She’s not that different, but can’t fit in with her peers
They all have their looks and brand name clothes
Just because she doesn’t, she’s the girl nobody knows
And this goes out to her; I just hope that it’s enough
To let her know I see the diamond hidden in the rough
But Nobody KnowsI can't tell myBut Nobody Knows in Free Verse More Like This
Tears from the rain
The hurt from the pain
My life from this game
It's all just the same
And it hurts me so badly
That you're so mad at me
I can't stop me from breaking
My hands are still shaking
Knees are so weak
I can't stay on my feet
So I fall to the ground
And I hope to be found
It's this feeling inside me
That I've never missed
It corrodes and divides me
Puts scars on my wrist
It controls and divides me
Fuels the fire inside me
Destroys all I make
Creates all my hate
I'm not that one in a million
The diamond in the rough
I'm just one more person
Who's finally had enough
Of hiding from hurt
And dealing with pain
But nobody knows
Cause I cry in the rain
What I Meant.*Accidentally bumps into you*What I Meant. in Free Verse More Like This
-What I said-
Oh, I’m so sorry..!
-What I meant-
I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand
Cause even though I do the very best that I can
I can’t face this world alone
There’s too much I don’t understand
*Accidentally holds your hand*
-What I said-
Is everything alright?
-What I meant-
What should I do if I can’t tell between
The reality of life or if it’s just a dream?
I can tell the world is real enough
It’s just not as pretty as it seems
*Accidentally hugs you*
-What I said-
Are you okay?
-What I meant-
I guess I never wanted to believe
That something I helped create
That I thought was more than beautiful
Could be so capable of hate
*Accidentally kisses you*
-What I meant to say instead-
So prove me wrong
And say it’s not too late
Or too bad, or no good and that
There’s still room for one more clean slate
Because another se